Green
by KeiranEmrys
Summary: And it’s that grin—that soft grin that he only saves for Spock when he’s teasing him, or talking to him, or just plain looking at him. And it’s enough to make Spock’s insecurity go away. Kirk/Spock


Green, Jim mused, must be his favorite color.

He had very much liked the _encounter_ with Gaila. In fact, he could probably go as far to say that it was some of the best sex he'd had to date, and that had nothing to do with the fact that she'd been an Orion. At least, he was pretty sure it didn't anyway.

Feeling her around him, her breathy moans drifting to his ears; that had been enough to get him excited, hell any man would get aroused if an Orion girl came onto them. But the moment he opened his eyes as she rode him, his vision was filled with the beautiful emerald tone of her skin.

That was what did it. His eyes rolled back and his muscles seized up. His climax was intense and hot and all he could think of was the tightness around him and that green skin and _ohmygodyes just like that_. From that day on it was pretty much cemented in his mind that green was certainly his favorite color and then some.

Yes, Jim Kirk loved the color green. And he looked damn good in it too. He had to admit he was a little anxious when putting on the greenish dress shirt for the first time, but once he had slipped the fabric taut across his chest, even Admiral Komack had a hard time not acknowledging how well the color suited him.

He used this to his advantage, wearing green any and every chance he could get. He mentioned all the time how 'Green is my favorite color.' and 'Did I mention how much I love emeralds?' and 'Why Spock, don't you know how much I love the color green?' And every time the half-Vulcan was within earshot, Jim's comments always succeeded in bringing a small almost unseen flush to the First Officer's cheeks.

Especially that last one. Oh, Jim had delighted so much in seeing his beloved color grace the cheeks and ears and neck of his First. He delighted in it so much that it soon became like a game to him. What other things could he say? What could he do? What juicy tidbit could he infer that would get that lovely color on Spock's skin again? He did it every day, dropping innuendos like rain drops from the sky on a cloudy day.

It was unclear if Spock knew what he was doing, but if he was the Vulcan certainly didn't show it; much less put a stop to it. Though his reactions did slowly become less noticeable, and the Captain had to try harder and become more blatant in order to get the rise out of him that he so desperately hoped for.

Then one day, it just stopped. There was no reason for it, no notice, no warning. It simply ceased. It was—to borrow a phrase—illogical. The innuendos stopped and the Captain went about business as usual, acting not as if he were coming onto his second in command, and as though he had ceased seemingly fruitless efforts of getting said officer into bed.

Except it _wasn't_ business as usual. The teasing and hint-dropping and inappropriate comments _were_ business as usual for Kirk. And it was this exact reasoning—this logic—that brought First Officer Spock to stand in front of his Captain's quarters.

But even as he raised his hand to knock, Spock was still debating within himself. His actions in themselves were not logical. Should he not be grateful that the Captain had ceased his attentions? Was it truly logical to miss the attention as he did? To want them back? This puzzled Spock. There was no reason for him to crave this kind of attention; his embarrassment spoke that even if his words did not.

And yet, it was here he found himself, bringing his hand to rap lightly on the door to his Captain's quarters and walking swiftly into the room at the muffled "Enter". His eyes fell to the figure at the desk and was slightly disconcerted—disappointed?—when Jim did not look up to smile as he used to, but only spared a glace to ascertain the identity of one who had entered.

"Something you need Mr. Spock?" No inflection, no hint at anything that had been going on the last few weeks. It was all business and he didn't stop in his scribbling on his PADD. Spock's eyes narrowed. Anger rose in him, though he did not know why and would certainly never admit it.

"Yes, _Captain_, there are many things I need. At this moment I only request that you pay a visit Doctor McCoy." _That _certainly got the blond's attention. Jim's head snaps up to meet Spock's eyes so fast he might've gotten whiplash.

"_What?_"

"You have not been acting like yourself these past few weeks. Obviously there must be something wrong, and seeing as you have not spoken about it either to myself or Doctor McCoy then it must be an illness you are unaware of. Now, will you accompany to Sickbay or will I be forced to call the good Doctor here?"

Jim stars incredulously at his First Officer. "You serious? Shit, you're kidding right?"

An eyebrow flicks up. "Absolutely not Captain. Vulcans do not 'kid'."

Jim sighs and looks down at his desk. Spock, for once, cannot read the others expression, as Jim stands to face him. They're close now, almost too close for comfort and definitely too close for a vulcan. Jim bites his lip, expression still unreadable.

"My favorite color is green you know."

"Yes, you have stated many times before, but I do not see how—"

"No." Jim interrupts, "Shit, you don't get it." Then Jim mumbles to himself, eyes staring above. "I guess you never really did, did you?"

Spock's eyebrows dipped slightly in confusion. "I do not understand."

Jim sighs and looks Spock dead in the eye. "Yeah." A pause and Jim takes a deep breath, as if preparing himself for something big. "Yeah."

And then Spock feels a cool sensation on his lips and on the sides of his face. It takes a moment to register that it is in fact the cooler body temperature of Jim's human lips and hands that are touching him, caressing him.

The lips against his part slightly and then he feels a small nip to his bottom lip. His confusion shatters. In that moment he pushes back responding to the kiss, moving his lips with Jim's, hears a moan he didn't think he was able to form, falls into the bliss of feeling Jim's lips against his own with bruising pressure and teasing nips.

Spock's hands come up to clasp at Jim's waist, just as Jim's own hand begin to run through his midnight black hair and down to caress his neck, his cheek, then back to the sides of his face. He moans again, and it's like a dam brakes; he loses control. He swiftly backs Jim to the wall and proceeds to ravish him. He gives his own bites to Jim's lips, though slightly harder and much closer to breaking skin. It doesn't hurt Jim in the slightest; in fact it's all the more pleasurable.

Jim whimpers. It's the first sound he's made and it's what brings Spock to his senses. Spock comes to an abrupt halt, his lips still laying against Jim's, their heavy breathing mixing in the minute space between their mouths. Jim's eyes slowly open, and Spock has been staring. There's confusion in those blue orbs, but Spock can't bring himself to speak.

"Spock? Why'd you stop?" Spock blinks and slowly gathers his scattered thoughts. His arms drop back to his side and he steps back from his Captain. Jim doesn't move from his position against the wall—doesn't even adjust himself—just continues to look at his friend with that confused look upon his face.

"Spock?"

Spock's voice is shaky, and it surprises both of them. "I apologize, Captain. How inappropriate of me. If you'll excuse me." He turns leave, but is brought to a halt at a hand around his wrist. He doesn't dare look back, doesn't dare look into the eyes of his Captain.

"Spock, wait. You—shit—you can't just kiss me like that and leave damnit." Spock still doesn't move.

"Spock, look at me." The hand moves up his arm and caresses the side of his face again. "Look at me. Please?"

And Spock can't help himself, that voice sounds so gentle, so sincere, so—lonely. He turns and faces Jim. Jim's eyes are smiling at him and his other hand is coming up to stroke his pointed ear. He shivers, wondering if he should tell Jim that Vulcan ears are extremely sensitive. No, he's pretty sure Jim knows.

"Spock, if that was inappropriate of you, then Scotty is a woman and Bones hates alcohol." And it's that grin—that soft grin that he only saves for Spock when he's teasing him, or talking to him, or just plain _looking_ at him. And it's enough to make Spock's insecurity go away, it's enough to make the side of his lips quirk upward. Jim chuckles softly and brings their lips to meet each other again, though briefly because then Jim is whispering something.

"Didn't I tell you my favorite color is green Spock?"

And there it was, Jim's beloved color, softly flushing across Spock's cheeks and to the tips of his ears. But this time Spock is happy that it is there. This time he wants it there, because as long as his skin is blushing green, then Jim will keep kissing his just like he is now.

**A/N: Okay, so im not so confident with this one, but i decided to post it anyway. ****thoughts? comments? crit?**


End file.
